


our murmured dawn conspiracies

by crookedspoon



Series: Tonight, No Poetry Will Serve [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Drabble Sequence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley loves games. She can play along. As long as it's not Rapunzel, locked up in her tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our murmured dawn conspiracies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swan_Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swan_Secrets/gifts).



> Yeah, um. Last week's Arrow (307) kinda flipped a switch with Diggle's "nuttier than" commment, and this is what came of it.
> 
> Written for "Author's choice, author's choice, bye - bye" and "[Write a fill 500 words long](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/298390.html) at fic-promptly, as well as 17. "obedience" at femslash100's Kinks drabble cycle.

"Hey!" Harley bangs a hand against her cell door to get some attention. "Lemme out! I wanna play, too!" She's close to using her skull next time, but that wouldn't get her out of her cell, except maybe to the infirmary.

"Calm down, Harley," Agent Michaels says, face popping into view of the tiny window, obscuring Lawton's irritatingly smug face. She's gonna bust his nose next time they're in the gym together. At least Turner has the decency to merely look bored.

"That's so sexist," Harley complains. "Why do only the boys get to have fun?"

"We've been over this."

*

Harley's been flirting with Lyla on and off for some time now. Innocent little chit-chats, really, just a hint of subtext, not her usual brash double entendres. She needs her trust, hoping she'll put in a good word for her with Waller.

Lawton's been getting in her head, though, and not in a good way. Said she's unhinged, unstable, unsafe. (Just because _he's_ not comfortable with her cozying up to him. Gee, talk about issues.) And they trust him.

At this rate, she'll never get out of here. But she won't stop trying.

"C'mon, cupcake. You know you want to."

*

Lyla has to admit that Harley's a lot more compliant than she expected.

"You've demonstrated that you can both listen and play along," she says after their mission.

"Are you kiddin'? I love games! Gimme a role and I'll own it." Harley's voice drops. "Any role." She crowds Lyla against her desk, body warm and solid and lethal against hers. "Just get me outta here."

Harley kisses Lyla like she was born for it and completely disarm her. Not a request goes unanswered; she learns quickly. Lyla should have listened to Lawton after all and left Harley in her cell.

*

Lyla takes her sweet time getting back to her, but one day a guard hauls her out of her cell.

"Hey, where are you taking me?" Gee, did he cuff her tight. Her wrists are smarting.

"Out."

"Like on a date?"

"You're being transferred."

"Whoopie!" Now, that's interesting. Whereto, she wonders. Hopefully not back to Arkham.

"Why's she gettin' out?" Lawton asks, muted, from inside his cell.

"Loony bonus, I bet," Turner offers.

"Yeah, they're not suited to this sorta work."

She sticks out her tongue in their general direction. Always picking on the crazies. "Have fun rottin' in here."

*

Lyla's waiting to brief her in her office.

"This is a top-secret mission," she says. "This prisoner transfer will provide you with an opportunity to escape."

"And my bomb thingie? Won't that go off?"

"We've got that covered. Your task is to go after the Dollmaker."

"Ooh, Dollmaker. D'you think he'd make one for me, too?"

"If you're not careful, he'll turn you into one."

"Sweet. Can't wait to meet him."

"You're not taking this seriously."

"Honey, I'm a jester. There's nothing sacred except fun."

"Just... take care."

"Oh, ain't you a sweetie," Harley beams. "Don't worry. I'll come back."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Twenty-One Love Poems" by Adrienne Rich.


End file.
